


Them, Together

by clickclickBANG



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Claws, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Gabriel is a coy husband, Gabriel kept a part of himself a secret, Getting Back Together, Jack is a very (im)patient man, M/M, Post-Fall of Overwatch, R76 Reverse Bang 2017, Reaper76 Reverse Bang, Reconciliation, Reunion Sex, Reverse Big Bang Challenge, Secret Identity, Secrets, Smut, a lot...of claws, and Jack never knew, pre-Talon Reaper, there is also a small round fluffy surprise character at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 10:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12769494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickclickBANG/pseuds/clickclickBANG
Summary: Fordecades-Gabriel Reyes kept the shadow beneath his skin, the second pulse in his veins, a secret from his commander and husband, Jack Morrison.  But as Overwatch started to crumble around them, the "ghost" lingering in Gabriel's heart began to show, and his secrets began to unravel.And Jack had no idea how to react.And they fellapart.Now, after years of following separate paths, fighting separate battles, they're trying to find the answers and put their pieces back into"Them, together" again.(But the shadows in Gabriel's heart have their own...smallplans.)





	Them, Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vapewraith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vapewraith/gifts).



> I'm alive?? Maybe??
> 
> This is my Reaper76 Reverse Big Bang piece for the every wonderful [Vapewraith](http://vapewraith.tumblr.com)! I'm super excited that I got the chance to work with her on this piece - I love everything Vape makes and I'm so glad I was able to sit down and really write a proper piece for her!! Vape's artwork, her colors, her style, her expressions, _everything_ is just SO inspiring to me, and I love exploring all of those aspects in words and writing.
> 
> A lot of love and ideas went into this fic - Vape and I share a lot of headcanons on pre-Talon/pre-Fall "Reaper" so I was really happy to get a chance to try writing him. It's also been a long time since I attempted some post-reconciliation Gabriel/Jack, so I had, uh, _fun_ with that.
> 
> Vape also jokingly dared me to write part of the fic from the Reapbean perspective.
> 
> ...
> 
> >:3c
> 
> (No li'l Reaps were harmed in the making of this fic)
> 
> Big thank yous to both Vape and my lovely beta Gonzo for reading it over and helping me fix everything up!

 

 _He’s late_ , Jack thinks dryly, but there’s a touch of genuine nervousness marbled with frustration in the curt thought.  He glances up from the article on his datapad to the thin, blind-shuttered window on his left.  He carefully, cautiously moves some of the aged slats aside, his gaze drifting down across the dusty street, the setting sunlight making the whole world hazy with cast-bronze radiance.

The safehouse isn’t in the most glamorous part of Cairo, but that’s precisely the point.  And, to be completely honest, nothing’s really gonna top watching sunsets off the side of the Necropolis anyways - sipping his whiskey as Ana enjoys her tisane tea, watching the light of the day fade across the distant sandstone angles of the pyramids as the stars glitter and shine in the velvety darkness of the coming night.  There’s an incredible, breathtaking beauty in those moments, where the whole world stills as the sun twists into the silky blueness of the dusk, where Jack almost -

 _Almost_ -

Can pretend things are good again.

Whole again.

Complete again.

...But it’s a hard thing to pretend when there’s the open, empty, hollow space on his right side, where only his shadow lingers across the sandstone angles of the palace of the dead.

So even though Jack appreciates those quiet, starstudded nights with Ana’s calm, age-tempered patience by his side

These evenings - drenched in the burning, molten gold of the dying sunset over the simmering and shuddering sigh of the beating, urban heart of the Nile - are perhaps all the more beautiful for what they are worth.

To him

And his “shadow.”

( _IIIIIIIIIIII fucking hate trains_ , Gabriel drawls inside as he practically shoves his way out of the light-train compartment, striding and strutting his way between the other passengers as he steps onto the platform.  He’s not dressed as Reaper in this moment, though he can sense the skull lingering like a shadow beneath his skin, ready to condense and breathe with him again at any moment, any time he calls.  Yet despite being dressed in a long sports jacket and sluggish sweatpants and a tight, asymmetrical shirt, the crowd parts easily and hastily before him, perhaps instinctively and subconsciously sensing his power, held hidden just beneath his surfaces.)

(Gabriel takes several long strides onto the platform, before looking around with a deep, vivid scowl.  After a long moment of semi-sulking - _of course he’s not here_ \- Gabriel exhales slowly and decides that he hates train stations too.)

The safehouse is on the edge of the El Azbakeya district in central Cairo, close enough to the train station for both of them to walk, but far enough away from the beautiful historic center that an old soldier and a passing silhouette won’t draw attention.  The sunset that burns on the western edge of the city of spiraling towers and angled buildings is a flood of deep, ruby red melting into marigold orange fading into dusky twilight purples, with only the thinnest stars beginning to alight in the eastern edges of the sky, more of a whisper of starlight than a true twinkle.  Everything glitters and glimmers with a sweet smokiness, a promise of time unraveling, impermanent and yet eternal.  Below the apartment, Jack watches as cars and carts and people and Omnics move with a tense easiness that is somehow both hasty and languid, fast and yet slowly sweeping.  The sounds that drift in only enhance the _miserably wonderful_ agony and bittersweetness of the wait: a car honking, a siren in the distance, a twanging, strumming harmony rising from a radio in the apartment complex, the ringing of a bell.

(Gabriel exits the beautiful Ramses Rail Station, almost waltzing out onto the street, glancing up and down the massive palisade.  The sun is setting a beautiful, brilliant rose gold above his head, the light a silky blood-red ruby at the western end, dripping up up up into a wash of orange fire, like the flickering of flames in Jack o’Lanterns or the marigold-burnished candlelight of the Día de Muertos ofrendas, before melting into a wispy rasp of lavender smoky twilight.)

( _They’ll call the adhan soon,_ Gabriel can tell from the length of the light, before he turns with an easy tension, a hasty languidness, and begins to stride down the street, the shadows clinging and curling after him -)

 _They’ll call the adhan soon_ , Jack thinks idly, keeping time by the length of the sun’s liquid colors across the sky, before he lets the stained wood slat fall again.  He exhales slowly, his impatience showing only in the jittery tap-tap-tap of his index finger on the edge of his datapad and the drumming of his other fingers on the top of the table.  He looks about the room, feeling his thoughts and frustrated ache deepen with the growing shadows in the corners.  

The room is fairly sparse in its furnishings, yet it somehow _also_ feels a little cramped: his small table, set with just two chairs, is wedged up against the window, with only a small space before the large, king-sized bed hogs most of the room.  A small holo-projection-capable television hangs on the wall opposite the bed, above a workbench, and around a small partitioning wall, there’s a hallway that leads to a tiny bathroom and a snug kitchen nook.

Everything looks barely lived in, which isn’t surprising given they both only come here once or twice a month at best, but after a few months of doing this, there are finally - _finally_ \- little traces of _them_ that linger, small signs of _them, together_ that continue to exist in this room of a worn out slice of their lives even when they are _them, apart_.

The spare dark hoodie that he wears when he needs to be less... _conspicuous_ , hanging in between his 76 jacket and the door.

The coffeemaker on the bedside table, where Jack prefers it for the early mornings when he’s too lazy to walk to the kitchen, with two clean mugs sitting beside it.

The extra bits of biotic field capsules and heavy pulse rifle parts, two extra burner phones ready in case they need them, and a small sewing machine hanging out wistfully on the workbench.

The faint, starlike whispers of _him_ , the one who is late, playfully teasing Jack’s impatience from the shadows in the corners, like gorgeous, sly smirks and the roll of sarcastic, gilded-obsidian eyes.

It’s the closest thing to a “home” Jack has had in years.

It’s somehow not enough...and too much at the same time.

Especially when _he_.  Isn’t.   _Here_.

 _I should just start telling him to get here at like, lunch or something_ , Jack grumbles internally, still drumming his fingers, the thought sounding raspy and gravelly even in his head.  This isn’t even all that surprising; after all -

Gabriel had always moved on his own sense of time.

It had made him wonderfully and vividly unpredictable during the Crisis, and then again as the Blackwatch division commander, _and no doubt it helps him now, deep into his infiltration of Talon_ , Jack reminds himself bittersweetly, but it had also made him a sometimes frustrating - and sometimes “ _frustrating_ ” - partner and husband to deal with.

And the smug jerk completely, 100% knew it too.

( _Jack’s probably pretty frustrated right now_ , Gabriel grins to himself, twisting through some of the winding streets, drawing up the hood of his jacket.  Even here, humans and Omnics alike seem to sense his presence before he actually appears, shifting out of his way automatically, keeping their eyes away from him as he struts past them -)

(After all -)

(Gabriel always knows when to arrive fashionably, _frustratingly_ late.)

(Precisely.)

(And perfectly.)

(Just enough to draw out the _miserably wonderful_ impatience in Jack.)

It wasn’t a lack of precision or focus - hell, Gabriel was the most determined, focused, fierce person Jack had ever met, devoting everything he was and is into doing a job or a mission or task “right, 110%, without fail...and with perfection.”  No, if Gabriel said a mission would take two weeks, it would take two weeks _exactly_ , with his squad returning almost on the minute they had left, just, you know, fourteen days later.  And if Gabriel said a full length investigation of a group or network would take fourteen months, then it would take fourteen months down to the day.

And if Gabriel said that an infiltration into the upper echelon of Talon would take six years -

Then it would take six years down to the second.

No, the frustrating part of Gabriel’s sense of time was in all the smaller, little things his otherworldly, supernatural focus would pass over: when the budgets for the subdivisions of Blackwatch were due, when the new recruit exams were supposed to take place, when the plumber was supposed to arrive at their house to fix a pipe while Jack was gone, when the car needed a goddamn smog check, when their flight back to Bloomington two days before New Year was, the usual.

And the “ _frustrating_ ” part of Gabriel’s sense of time was in the _damnably charming, incredibly seductive_ things his otherworldly, supernatural focus would twist on Jack and all of Jack’s senses: his ability to delay their anniversary dinners by five or ten minutes just to ensure that his pants fit _so precisely_ that Jack (and only Jack) could see how the thin strips of leather underneath would peek out from above his waistline when Gabriel moved _just right_ ; how he would show up late to their one-on-one private meetings about their joint missions and decisions only to slowly saunter into Jack’s Strike-Commander office like he owned the place ( _which he did,_ Jack admits to himself) and very deliberately take his sweet time to lock the door behind him while smiling with that perfect, self-assured smile; how he would almost never just _sit_ in a chair _anywhere_ but would instead recline himself with an easy tension, a hasty languidness where only Jack could see how he would adjust and readjust his legs -

How he would tie Jack down in bed, teasing and taunting him by putting on the _longest_ , most _miserably wonderful_ displays of indulgence and pleasure as Jack urged him on in low, raspy rumbles and groans.

(With each step away from the center of the El Azbakeya district, with each turn down a darker and darker alleyway, with each easily tense motion, the shadows cling and curl a little harder around him, and Gabriel knows it too.  He draws them in, wrapping them around his feet, his ankles, his calves, crafting the smoky dusklight into armored steel boots.)

So it’s pretty much impossible to say if this particular incident of Gabriel’s sense of (un)timeliness is due to the frustrating part of him just kinda glossing over the details that matter less to his obsidian-star-sharp mind ( _“I hate trains,” Gabriel had grumbled and complained last time, “I should just take a Talon jet next time.”  “If you get us caught,” Jack had muttered back, “I’m not forgiving you this time.”  Gabriel had looked at him with a deadpan expression, before giving Jack the most gorgeous, incredibly rich smirk as he’d chuckled, “We both know that’s not true, Jack.”_ ) -

Or if it’s due to the “ _frustrating_ ” part of Gabriel, trying to draw out the sweetly bitter and bittersweet agony of Jack’s wait, driving his impatience and longing ache up a goddamn wall.

…

It’s totally, 110% both.

(With each stride in his weighted combat boots, Gabriel smirks a little bolder, feeling more and more comfortable with every passing second.  The hazy, sinking sunset and the rising, steep shadows shift around him, tightening around his thighs, his hips, his waist, weaving into jet-black, skintight kevlar, his usual belts settling comfortably - precisely, with perfect angles - around his hips.)

(It had taken Jack far, _far_ too long to admit it, but Gabriel _knew_ \- beyond a shadow of a doubt - that Jack loves, with words unspoken, how his belts cling and shift with the swaying of his hips, with each slow, easily tense, hastily languid step of his stride, how Jack’s eyes always drift there when Gabriel walks, intensely thunderous and (im)patiently wanting.)

(So Gabriel grins a little more vividly, a little move viciously to himself as the shadows continue to wind up his torso with each step -)

(Clinging to him like a soft, smoky embrace, full of whispers of low, raspy rumbles, tinted twilight and stars like _him_ -)

 _Alright_ , Jack decides to himself, scowling to the smirking shadows in the corners of the room, _We’re not fucking around this time, Morrison.  You’re not gonna let him toy with you.  You set the pace this time._

Silence answers him with an amused, deadpan expression and -

 _...I’m so fucked_ , Jack relents, rubbing at his forehead with his left hand, his skin feeling a little tight and tense around his scars, the shadows around his eyes feeling dense and heavy.  He exhales slowly, glancing at his own reflection in the tv screen, dark with the ripple of the screenglass.

Gabriel had always set the pace of their lives.

And Jack had never complained because although his sense of time was different than his husband’s, they made up for each other’s rough, sea-worn edges and passing, silhouette weaknesses.  Jack had never had a problem letting Gabriel lead him in life, in love, in the military, in Blackwatch reports, in one-on-one private meetings, in their various bedrooms, in directions around Los Angeles, in where to go for dinner, everything where Gabriel had a sense of precision and focus.

But then…

Jack shuts his eyes, feeling his impatience gnaw at him like a hunger.

But then…

(Gabriel pauses at a small street intersection, scowling slightly.  The darkness is deeper and deeper here, where night is falling in shades of velvet silk, drifting in like curling smoke shadows.  The world drips with long hues of spreading dusk and dust, thick in the air like the sounds of cars honking and engines running and voices chattering.)

(The light is dying.)

(Gabriel’s eyes narrow as he assesses the surrounding alleyways, disappearing into drawn darknesses, feeling the shadows pulse in him like a second heartbeat.  He exhales slowly, letting the shadows condense and weave across his chest, precisely fit, perfectly presented.)

(He continues across the street, his thoughts starting to surge -)

At this point, the rush of the fall of Overwatch is hazy like sunsets across sandstone angles in Jack’s mind, gilded with fire and burning with tarnished bronze: there had been the collapse of the Shimada-gumi infiltration mission, the harrowing mission to save Genji; the sudden reveal of Blackwatch and its missions to the public, a leak both Jack _and_ Gabriel insist they still don’t know how it happened...or who did it; Petras suspending all Blackwatch activities to Gabriel’s bitter rage (and Jack’s quiet, simmering turmoil); and then the Null Sector uprising, London held hostage as the world bore down on Overwatch, telling them not to interfere, and when they did...and when they _succeeded_ , the world never thanked Gabriel for his part of it, for the work he and his agents had done; the growing distance between them, with Jack spending long nights at the U.N. headquarters in New York, in Geneva...and with Gabriel spending long nights at their house in Los Angeles, alone, drifting by himself; the furious and terrifying mission to arrest Ogundimu, whole streets of Numbani crumbling to dust and ash and asphalt, as Lena drifted through time and Genji collapsed in gutters and Winston _roared_ in rage -

...And then…

Ana.

Behind his eyelids, Jack _breathes_ into the darkness of his mind.

He loves her, like family born of battle and bullets, the sniper who actually did the overwatching during the Crisis...and then their different Strike Missions, his captain who had remained every stalwart, ever faithful.  They had _all_ remained faithful to him, when the order had come down to promote him up to Strike-Commander -  

Though the fear - as faint as the whisper of starlike in the dusky twilight of a dying sunset - that he was not worthy of Overwatch, of them, of _him_ , had set in like a sweetly bitter and bittersweet poison -

But even so.

All four of them had stayed with him.

But even so.

Ana had remained strong by his side - _their sides_ \- sometimes calling shots where Jack was too strained or bogged down to make them, sometimes encouraging the best and the worst of them to be _better_ , sometimes…

Sometimes _urging_ them to be... _too strong_ , _too deft_ , _too much_.

(Not enough and too much all at once.)

(Ana had been a goddamn pain during the last few years of Overwatch.  Gabriel had loved her, sister to himself and _him_ \- his husband, his partner, his commander - but _holy hell_ , she could grate on him like few others when her passion and zeal for the righteous had overgrown itself.  He had been the one to urge quieter measures, obsidian-sharded objectives, missions that would make the sweetly bitter and bittersweetness easier for everyone to swallow (especially Jack), but Ana would cut back with the fierceness of a falcon, arguing for the just and the brave, stalwart bastion of Overwatch and overwatching that she was.)

(He had sometimes wished she would know when to leave them alone, _together_ , for quieter, obsidian-sharded whispers…)

(As his fear - faint yet burning, burning stronger and stronger still - of Jack growing older, Jack drifting farther, Jack disappearing into the dusky, starless twilight without _them, together_ -)

(His fear of Jack leaving him behind -)

(Had pulsed more urgently in his shadowy-silk-sewn blood.)

If Gabriel had grown distant in the last year of Overwatch, bitter and bittersweet, Ana had grown tenser, hastier, fiercer - both his Blackwatch Commander and his Strike Captain had defied orders from Petras and the U.N., only Gabriel’s has been plausibly deniable ( _though ridiculously so_ , Jack remembers with a faint snort), but Ana’s had been sharp, outright, bold…

Brash.  

Arrogant in a way.

To the point where she -

Jack exhales in the soothing darkness of his mind -

To the point where she had _left them behind_

To pursue her brash, arrogant, damnably loving need to overwatch them all

And that…

_That_

Had caused _them, together_ to stumble

And fall

Into _them, apart._

(Gabriel had regretted his darker, smokier thoughts when Jack had returned that day, his blue eyes wide with fear and horror and _anguish_ \- and Gabriel had wanted nothing more than to hold him, hold him down, smother him with sweetly bitter and bittersweet kisses and his own black-silk smoke, but how he’d hurt, he’d hurt, over the loss of her, the one who had fought for the just and brave better than all of them and -)

The memories of the whole year of the fall are hazy like a sunset

But the precision and focus of small sunspot moments are crystal clear, shimmering like true stars over a palace of the dead in his mind.

(Gabriel should not have blamed him, but -)

_“YOU LEFT HER.”_

In the darkness behind his eyelids, Jack can still see _him_ , can still hear _him_ , can still _feel_ his rage, unending and eternal, a sunset that burns and melts and casts everything in a dense, weighted fire - how Gabriel had grabbed at his collar, pulling him in close as he used to when he wanted a breathless kiss from Jack, only that time -

That time.

...That had been Jack’s first, one-on-one meeting with _him_.

The smoke-sunset shadow in Gabriel’s eyes -

A dying, liquid light that burned blood-dripping red and molten gold and lightning obsidian -

_Him._

Reaper.

Jack had not known what he’d seen - just that it was something... _deep_ , something _otherworldly_ , something _supernatural_ in precision and focus, something beyond his then-understanding of the world, life, love, his husband, his partner, his commander.

And when Gabriel’s eyes had flashed ruby red in the heat of his sweetly bitter and bittersweet rage -

Jack had seen.

(And Gabriel had seen Jack recoil in fear and horror.)

( _...Oh_ , Gabriel had thought, his heart shattering into pieces as Jack had glimpsed the truth of his existence.   _Oh_ , Gabriel had thought, hurting himself on what he had always feared but what he had always known would happen.)

( _Oh_ , Gabriel had thought, leaving Jack’s office in a blinding, burning sunset fury, the shadows clinging and curling to him even then, the taste of ash sweetly bitter and bittersweet in his mouth.)

( _He will never accept what I am._ )

And from that point on

Their senses of time (and selves) had been completely out of sync.

When the world had caved in and the war had ravaged in their Swiss Base, their home, Jack had his second, one-on-one meeting with _him_ , the shadow in Gabriel’s heart and soul and -

_“You left me behind.”_

Gabriel’s voice had been _different_ \- cut with a raw-edged sharpness, smoke made into obsidian knives, glass cracking and claws shredding, the aftersounds of a shotgun pulled in oily black rage and anguish and pain.  And Jack had watched, speechless - in fear and horror - as Gabriel had drawn a long, jet-black shotgun from the plasma of ruby-tinted smoke itself -

( _What an idiot you are_ , Gabriel had thought to himself, watching as Jack had looked at him in fear and horror and heartbreak, _Coming back for him.  He would leave you to rot if he knew the truth._ )

( _He **will** leave you to rot when he knows the truth._ )

(But still...something in Gabriel had burned for him, had longed for him, even though he knew things would never be -)

(Good again)

(Whole again)

(Complete again.)

_“Why did you leave me behind, Jack?”_

The voice had not been _his_ , his husband’s, his partner’s, his commander’s, but _his_ , the shadow in his heart, the undying death in his soul, the secret ghost of all of _them, apart_ -

But the _words_

And the soft, heart-cutting _pain_ in them

Had been Gabriel’s.

And Jack had -

_“Gabriel, tell me what the **hell** is going on, please, Gabe -”_

And Gabriel had lifted the shotgun, tilting it towards Jack before -

_“...I wanted to tell you years ago, but...I knew you would never love me if you had known the truth.”_

\- Before Gabriel had whipped his arm to the door behind him, pulling the trigger -

And had blasted the Talon agent - disguised by wearing an Overwatch uniform - back against the far wall of the Commanders’ hallway.

And then -

The Reaper’s sense of time had taken over.

(To call him and his second shadow two separate beings was - precisely and perfectly - incorrect.)

(They had always been one and the same.)

(The shadow in Gabriel’s heart that had blossomed out with his (un)death after a bad injection in SEP, waking from the deeper and deeper nightmares of a skull with hellfire sunset eyes, the wraith that had haunted his blood like a second pulse - but when he’d woken with a gasping breath, it had been eyes of seadeep blue that had found him, ground him in the real world, as that low, raspy rumble had _sobbed_ -)

( _“Gabe, Gabe, Gabe, holy hell, you’re okay, Gabe -”_ )

( _“Don’t leave me again, Gabe - please, don’t ever leave me -”_ )

 _“We need to leave,”_ Gabriel - _no, Reaper_ \- had said in that obsidian-sharded voice, like fragments of whispers of stars enveloped in smoke.  When Jack had not moved, Gabriel had turned his head back towards him and -

_It was not Gabriel there -_

_But the Other who lived in Gabriel’s heart_

_With eyes like hazy sunsets burning and burning and burning -_

(And Gabriel had seen the fear and horror in Jack’s own sea-studded blue eyes and -)

( _...Oh_ , Gabriel had thought, his heart breaking into cracked, smoked glass fragments -)

And then the world had been _ripped apart_ around them.

\---

Jack slowly, slowly -

With all the time in the world -

Opens his eyes.

Their senses of time (and selves) had been different after that.

It had been _them, apart_.

Jack had known, distantly, that one of the Blackwatch “mercenary” agents had carried the callsign of “Reaper,” working in the shadows of Overwatch for years, possibly decades, operating as a “black market assassin-for-hire” to get Blackwatch easy access into arms-dealing groups and anarchy gangs and terrorist networks.  “Reaper” had been just one of _many_ Blackwatch (and even a few shared Overwatch) agents that had “doubled” as mercenaries and assassins and bounty hunters.

Jack had not only known of this division set-up -

He had approved it himself.

_“We will need to be able to hide in the pieces between peace, Commander,” Gabriel had said to him, years - decades - ago, when Overwatch had shifted from ending the Crisis to keeping the peace, and when Jack had approved the creation of the “black ops division.”  Gabriel had looked at him, earnest and somehow almost...broken-hearted as he’d continued, “Overwatch can only do so much by itself.  Not every hero can work in the light.”_

( _“I know,” Jack had replied to him, before the new Strike-Commander - his husband, his partner, his commander - had leaned in and pressed the sweetest, most seductive kiss to the edges of Gabriel’s lips._ )

( _And Gabriel had fallen for him all over again -_ )

( _“I know,” Jack had kissed against his lips in a coy, playful whisper, a low, sea-tide rumbled murmur, “And I love him for being stronger, braver, and better than me.”_ )

But that hadn’t made it any easier to realize that it was his husband, his partner, his commander -

 _His Gabriel_ -

Who was the shadow that had stalked battlefields and stormed missions like the apocalypse.

(The image of the fear and horror in Jack’s eyes had lingered in his soul like a shard of obsidian glass, jagged and ragged-edged and hateful and _broken_.  Gabriel threw himself into the last mission he’d assigned “Reaper” -)

(- Infiltrating Talon -)

...Learning the truth about Reaper had been the hardest thing of the last seven years.

A whole part of his Gabriel he had never known.

A whole part of his Gabriel he had feared.

(- And _destroying it_.)

...And Jack had lost all sense of himself for years as the fact had sunk into his heart like an obsidian knife.

(And Gabriel lost all sense of himself as he sank into the depths of Talon’s claws.)

Jack had looked for answers in the bottom of the whiskey glass, and found only melting ice cubes and the amber liquid that had haunted his blood like a wraith.

(Gabriel had done missions for Talon that he wasn’t proud of, wasn’t satisfied with, but he knew, he knew, he knew he had to - had to show them he was “trustworthy,” had to show them he was shrewd and smart and cutthroat -)

Jack had looked for answers in the bottom of the pistol barrel, and found only hands that shook as his sense of self had rattled like (un)death in the edges of his mind

The shadows in the corners of their neglected home mocking him for all that he’d never known.

(Gabriel had “ _lost_ ” missions for Talon that he _was_ proud of, walking a line so fine that it cast no shadow, held no depth, but he strode across it like it was his divine right - he would bring fire and flood, hell and highwater to those who had _burned_ him -)

(And _him_ -)

(His husband, his partner, his commander, his lost soul, his heartbreak, his deserter, his sweetly bitter and bittersweet twilight-tinted love -)

(His Jack -)

And then…

Jack had decided to look for answers in the eyes and twisted words of those who’d wronged them -

(Those who had torn _them, apart_ -)

And Jack had found

(When they’d first crossed paths again after the explosion...it had been _ugly_.  Brutal.  No sweet.)

(Only bitter.)

 _His Gabriel_.

Only his Gabriel had been dressed in jet-black, skintight kevlar, weighted combat boots, with a mask cut like a skull with eyes that burned burned burned like a dying sunset -

Wielding shotguns made from plasma smoke itself.

(The soldier had been a stranger to him - eyes glowing with liquid red glass, a mask of molded black mesh, a jacket cut straight from a leather flag and scarred with gun marks, a heavy pulse rifle bluer than the skies and bluer than the eyes in Gabriel’s memories and -)

Neither of them remembers who fired first that time.

Nor who’d released the first words - harsh and dark and bitter - accusing the other of breaking hearts and shattering promises.

Each battle had burned hard and dark and bitter - fury and furious - but slowly, slowly -

(They somehow fell back in sync with each other.)

Their steps had moved as graceful as they had once been years - decades - ago, when they had sparred and danced in the same breaths, in the same easily tense, hastily languid motions, fighting as they joked, laughing as they warred, loving as they always did, always had -

Always would.

And somehow

(They somehow added the sweet to the bitter.)

Everything had changed again several months ago

When Gabriel - no

_Reaper_

Had managed to drive Jack away from Ana, separate them in the junker scrap market of Giza outside the Temple of Anubis.  The wraith had chased him and chased him up the stairs, into an abandoned apartment, out into a walkway and -

“Jack!” Ana’s voice had burst through the comms in the Tactical Visor, “Jack, where are you - I can’t see you -”

The soldier had moved to press the button to give her his coordinates when -

(Gabriel had smashed the butt of his right Hellfire Shotgun up the backside of Soldier: 76’s head, taunting him with a smoky, obsidian-sharded laugh, “Too _easy_ , Jack - you always did move without thinking clearly.”)

Jack had stumbled, crashing to the ground, skidding hard across the sandstone angles and cuts, his heavy pulse rifle slipping from his hands.  He’d tried to twist around, tried to get his right fingers to the Tactical Visor, his left to a biotic field but -

A clawed hand, obsidian tipped with curling silver, had grabbed his face -

Before it had _ripped_ the visor off of him, flinging the mask away, into the haze of the setting sun.

Jack had scrambled back, struggling to get away, but he’d quickly found himself pressed against a wall of sandstone angles and -

(Gabriel had stopped.)

(It had been his first time seeing Jack’s face - the long, shuddering, snarling scars across his aging face, once more elegant than carved marble, sea-deep blue eyes filled with -)

( _...Of course_ , Gabriel had thought behind his own mask, as Jack had lifted eyes filled with fear and horror towards him but -)

(Suddenly -)

(There had been a glimmer of _something else_ \- sweetly bitter and bittersweet - as Jack had looked at him.)

Reaper had paused, not quite lifting the shotgun at him, but leaving it tilted towards him, as his raw, smoke-spun voice had asked him in an almost _teasing_ , taunting way, “Got any big motivational speeches there, coach?  Every _hero_ deserves his big, badass, self-sacrificing monologue at the end, under the light of the sunset - how _poetic_ , right?”

But Jack had just looked into that mask of hard, carved bone and curling steel, seeing eyes of burning, hellish sunsets in the shadows of the sockets, and

He had just

 _exhaled_ :

“...How long.”

Reaper - no

 _Gabriel_ had almost flinched at the question, but instead kept that slick, snarky cool, muttering lowly, “Well...I mean, the fall-off range is seven meters -”

Jack had _laughed_ at that, chuckling with a deep rumble, which _had_ gotten Gabriel to flinch.  Jack had shaken his head, murmuring with a steadily breaking heart and a question he’s been slowly dying to ask for seven years:

“How long have you been like this?”

(And...for perhaps the first time in years - no -

( _Decades_ -)

(Gabriel had realized that maybe...just maybe -)

(He’d misunderstood his husband, his partner, his commander, all those years and decades ago -)

Reaper - no

_Gabriel_

Had been silent

assessing Jack’s words, weighing his motivations, a cool, bright ruby-red gaze _seeing_ his soul, approximating values and truths and the genuine, raw, deep ache of years -

“Decades,” Gabriel had answered, and there’s no slick, snarky coolness there.

Just brutal, love-rending honesty.

And Jack -

(And finally -)

(Gabriel sees -)

(The fear and horror in the blue of Jack’s eyes - easily tense, hastily languid, sweetly broken and brokenly sweet -)

(Had _never_ been for the shadow in Gabriel’s existence -)

Jack _had cracked_ under the easiness of the truth.

(But for the implication that they had never been _them, together_ , but always been _them, apart_.)

“Was it…” Jack had started.  Stopped.  Cut himself on the shards of his heart and the edges of Gabriel’s truth.  Relished that even though he’s been anticipating this answer, the pain had still been _genuine_ , raw -

Deep.

“Was it that hard to trust me?” Jack had _breathed_ , feeling the shudder and shake rattle and crack his voice even as he tried to keep his fear and horror contained, “Was I...Was I _that_ ignorant of a husband??”

And Reaper -

No.

Gabriel had sighed with the kindest, softest, gentlest impatience and annoyance, like the tone he used to use when Jack did something ridiculous, something dumbass, something that would probably get them in Serious Shit This Time, saying to him almost _sweetly_ , “Oh, _Jack_.”

“Don’t you -” Jack had managed to fire back, just like old times, as easy as if they were bickering over the monthly bills and subdivision budgets, “Don’t you _dare_ use that tone of voice with me -”

( _...Oh_ , Gabriel had thought, feeling something seal a few of the broken pieces of his heart back together - something like glowing gold lacquer, woven from sunsets and biotic fields, something sweetly bitter and bittersweet.)

(Something that could maybe - maybe - help him feel)

(Good again.)  
(Whole again.)

(Complete again.)

“You’re wasting your heroic monologue time,” Gabriel had muttered wryly, crouching in front of Jack, setting his right shotgun on his shoulder with that same, easy manner that he has always had.  Only the face that had peered at Jack’s had not been Gabriel’s.

It had been Reaper’s.

A mask of hard-cut bone and cold-rolled steel.

But Jack had laughed - a low, rasp rumble that had somehow been genuine and true, easy and languid, without tension or haste, a slow slip of time as they had fallen back in sync with each other.

(Gabriel had watched him laugh, how the scars on his face had twisted and shifted like sunlight across ancient stone, but something had burned for him, longed for him, and -)

(For the first time in years - _decades_ -)

(Gabriel had felt the faintest whisper of hope - like stars struggling to shine over a city of light pollution and artificial shadows -)

(That something could make them good again.)

(Whole again.)

(Complete again.)

And Jack had slowly - fearfully, timidly - held up his right hand towards Reaper’s - no, Gabriel’s face.  Gabriel had barely moved, just shifting his head slightly to look at Jack’s gloved fingers with the smallest twinges of fear in his ruby-red sunset eyes...but he had not fled.  He had stayed, giving Jack the smallest of openings to reach out and gently -

 _So gently_ -

Trace fingertips across the edge of the carved cheekbone.

And Reaper - his husband, his partner, his commander, his agent, his mercenary, his life, his love -

His Gabriel -

Had _melted_ at the touch.

The languid tension in his shoulders had evaporated, the easy haste in his slow, sauntering, swaggering self had drifted away, as if Jack had broken a pressurized bottle of sharded obsidian smoke, releasing twilight stars into the sunset.  Gabriel had flinched up again almost immediately, but exhaled slowly, letting Jack’s sea-deep blue eyes examine him calmly, like true velvet night, genuine shadows that cling and curl to Gabriel’s form easily and languidly -

(But there had been no fear, no horror in Jack’s eyes -)

(Only a sweetly bitter and bittersweet love -)

(And a tired, but (im)patient trust that wanted, more than anything, to try for _them, together_ again.)

(And Jack had asked him with a quiet, low rasp:)

(“...When?”)

Reaper - no

Gabriel had flinched at the question, but with easy tension, hasty languidness, had replied, “...The sixth round of the second series of injections.  I never...I never really woke up, Jack.”

But Jack had tilted his head, face scowling with confusion, saying softly, “...Yes, you did.”

(“No, Jack -” Gabriel had continued, “My nightmares woke up with me.  Together.  In my blood.”)

(But Jack had shaken his head, murmuring with sweet bitterness and bittersweetness:)

(“No, Gabe...you woke up.  You came back to me.  That was what mattered.”)

(And Jack had smiled, so lovingly, so warmly, so (im)patiently:)

(“And I have loved you for every moment after - nightmares and all.”)

\---

Jack sets the datapad down, still drumming his fingers across the table, his other hand reaching for the mostly-empty glass of whiskey, watching as the sun sets further across the slats of the blinds, the light growing longer and truer - a glow that reminds him of the gilded regality of the depth of Gabriel’s rich skin, warm and sultry, tinted with a faint ruby-red as the heat of _them, together_ would rise in this very room, Gabriel’s fingernails clawing into Jack’s back as Jack loves him, sweetly sensual and steadily rough, so happy just to have his husband, his partner, his commander, his Gabriel back, _perfectly_ tight around him and -

Hearing Gabriel _moan_ in that smoke-sharded voice, like fragments of obsidian stars tinted with hazy sunset light, and how Jack would do _anything_ Gabriel asked him to in that voice -

 _There’s not enough ice in this glass for me to chill_ , Jack thinks, disappointed in himself for his utter frustration and “ _frustration_ ” because

Learning the truth about Reaper had been the hardest thing of the last seven years.

But falling back in love with Gabriel had been the easiest.

Easy smirks rippled with taut tension, hasty jokes powered with languid sarcasm, smoky laughter filled with dripping drawls -

And an obsidian shadow made from ruby-red stars and souls, tinted twilight with the dusk that interweaves with the mesh of the sunset.

Jack stills, staring at the empty chair across from him, but his eyes see -

(Gabriel rounds the corner, sighing as he finally reaches the right street - he can see the complex where the safehouse is located at the end.  As the light grows longer, and the shadows grow deeper, he can hear the muezzins starting their calls, their songlike chants drifting through the twilight more serene and beautiful than stars.)

(Gabriel draws the shadows around his head, weaving them into his usual hood, before -)

(The second pulse in his blood takes form.)

(As he strides forward, the last rays of the dying sunset and the faint whispers of starlight veil across his face, building the bony struts and structures, constructing his second skull, the dusk of the growing night wisping into curling steel along his jaw.)

(And, at long last -)

( _“...I don’t know when I can meet with you again,” Gabriel had said reluctantly two months ago.  They had been lying in bed, after having loved each other senseless, their breaths still short and ragged, chests rising and falling steeply - Jack’s white hot passion still warm and so **right** , so **good** inside him.  Gabriel had shivered slightly just feeling it still, even as Jack - his husband, his partner, his soldier - had shifted a little, propping himself up on his right elbow as he looked over Gabriel._ )

( _Lying on his back, Gabriel had glanced up at him, at those seadeep blue eyes holding him with an easy tension, a hasty languidness, a cautious concern.  Jack had reached out with his left hand, tracing fingertips tenderly down Gabriel’s right cheek, across the ragged scars there -_ )

( _“...It’s getting serious, then?” Jack had asked, as Gabriel had pressed his right hand to Jack’s fingers, moving his husband’s hand to his mouth, placing a soft, sweetly bitter and bittersweet kiss to Jack’s warm, calloused palm._ )

( _“I’ve never been closer to the council,” Gabriel had said, slightly muffled behind Jack’s skin, but his eyes had held Jack’s, trying to convey how important this step was, why he would need to devote everything he was, had, is to this phase of his plan._ )

( _After all -_ )

( _They were giving this…“trying to be good again” thing a legit shot._ )

( _“Vialli wants to take out Katya,” Gabriel had continued, as Jack had watched him patiently, moving his hand back to lightly scratch through Gabriel’s beard.  Gabriel had almost **melted** to the touch - how sweet it was, how loving - but he’d managed to continue, “But Sombra and I both think that botching the assassination could crack Talon open.”_ )

( _“Expose differences between the factions?” Jack had asked - he’d always been good at reflecting Gabriel’s ideas, teasing out his explanations and words when Gabriel’s thoughts had run too fast, like silk smoke streaming by.  Gabriel had hummed contentedly, “Exactly.  This could shake a lot of shit up.  But I have to be prepared for the repercussions.  And ready to drag Sombra out of there by her stupid purple collar if I have to.”_ )

( _“...You’ll keep me updated, right?” Jack had asked hesitantly, fear and horror faint in his eyes - not because of the tasks “Reaper” will have to do -_ )

( _But because of the risks Gabriel will have to take upon himself._ )

( _“When I can,” Gabriel had replied, trying that “honesty” thing out.  He’d interwoven his right fingers with Jack’s left, looking up into the sweetly bitter and bittersweet love in Jack’s eyes, adding quietly:_ )

( _“Will you wait for me? ...No matter how long I take?”_ )

_And Jack had looked at him - his husband, his partner, his shadow -_

_His Gabriel -_

_Before he had leaned over, kissing a faint, twilight-tinted whisper, graced with stardust and dusky sunsets, murmuring:_

_“You’re the most frustrating person in the world to wait for, ‘Reaper.’”_

_And, against his scarred lips, Gabriel had **smirked** , kissing him back as he’d whispered back with ruby-red, shifting shadows curling in his words:_

_“...I’m going to take the last inbound train just to **spite** you, ‘Soldier.’”_

(“Reaper” pauses at the entrance to the apartment complex.)

(He’s almost there again -)

(Almost with his Jack again.)

The only signs of Jack’s impatience are his fingers drumming on the table, the now-empty glass in his other hand -

And the dark, intense focus in his clouded eyes.

It is, admittedly, kinda embarrassing that his _ache_ for Gabriel has been so strong, so agonizing, so impatient the last two months - they used to do this distance all the time when he had to run long, deep missions with his Blackwatch agents, when they were both _them, apart_ and _them, together_ , connected through calls and messages, video chats and dreams.

 _Weird to remember I managed to spend like, six years without him_ , Jack thinks dryly, _But those **were** the worst six years of my life, so that says a lot._

And perhaps it’s the fact that Jack _has_ spent six years without him - his husband, his partner, his shadow, his other half, his lover - that now

_Now_

Jack finally, truly, genuinely knows -

(Gabriel climbs the stairs, feeling his own blood begin to thrum and thrill as he _senses_ him - his husband, his partner, his soldier, his lover - two stories...one story above him -)

What these sunsets and sunrises are worth.

And then -

Jack hears the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of weighted combat boots across the landing.

He rises from his chair -

(Gabriel taps in the unlock code on the door -)

 _Finally_ , Jack thinks with “ _frustration_ ,” shifting around the table and then the corner of the bed as he moves to the door.

(The door slides open, and with a single stride -)

 _He_ steps inside.

There’s a pause of long, dying sunset silence, as the dark, black-leather, skintight kevlar, skull-masked form turns towards the soldier, the door automatically sliding shut and locking itself behind him.  The soldier comes to a stop right next to him - his husband, his partner, his shadow, his lover -

 _His Gabriel_ -

As that mask tilts slightly, mockingly, teasingly, before -

The figure reaches up a clawed hand, gripping the mask, pulling his second skull from his face, revealing that _precisely smug_ , _perfectly cocksure_ _smirk_ \- gilded-obsidian eyes glinting with traces of ruby-red shadows - as he chuckles in that star-sharded voice:

“...You look _frustrated_ , soldier - was it a long wait?”

The soldier glowers at him with a _fierce_ impatience in those abyssal eyes, deeper and deeper still, the shadows long in the draw of them, before he _growls_ in that low, raspy rumble:

“ _I’ll show you frustration, **reaper**_ -”

And then Jack pulls himself right up against Gabriel -

Kissing him deep - harsh and dark and _bittersweet_.

The kiss is a gilded, hazy sunset, molten and hot, sweet and sultry, tinted in twilight and steeped in shadows - there are no stars here, not even faint whispers of them - just a dark, drawn smokiness that _burns_ and _longs_ as it floods them with a pounding pulse.  Gabriel groans lightly against Jack’s lips, dropping his second skull as Jack’s hands pull at his belts with hasty languidness, pressing their bodies together as close as they’ll go, with Jack grinding up against him in an easy tension -

Jack shivers as those steel-tipped claws sink into his hair, scratching with _perfect_ hardness across his scalp as Gabriel pulls him in closer and closer, falling deeper and deeper still as the kiss twists and turns into breathless moans and shuddering gasps.  Jack nips urgently at Gabriel’s lower lip, murmuring with that tide-worn voice, “God, I _hate_ waiting for you.”

“Mmm, but you’re _so good_ at it,” Gabriel says back, grinning mischievously, punctuating each word with another kiss.  Jack’s senses crack and fray at the edges as Gabriel pulls away, just enough to flash that _incredibly charming, wonderfully seductive_ smile at him, eyes glinting ruby-red as he hums against Jack’s lips, “So good, getting more and more impatient for me by the second -”

Jack slips his hands around to grip at the curve of Gabriel’s ass, before sliding down to the angle of his thighs -

“- You burn the _hottest_ when you’re on edge, Jack,” Gabriel continues to taunt him, playfully kissing each word to Jack’s mouth, Jack accepting each one with hastily languid greed.  Jack pulls his hands towards him -

Gabriel’s eyes briefly flash with fear and horror and _shock_ -

As Jack lifts his legs off the ground.

“ _Holy hell, Jack_ -” Gabriel _breathes_ excitedly against his lips, rushing to cling to Jack like a shadow, his clawed fingers digging into the meat of Jack’s shoulders, his legs wrapping around Jack’s hips with easy tension.  Even as he continues to kiss and nip at Gabriel’s lips, Jack lifts him, moving backwards with a fluid motion, before he turns and

Practically throws Gabriel down on the bed.

Gabriel stares up at him, his chest hitching as he watches Jack rise, relishing in the dark, thunderous, _fiercely impatient_ look in Jack’s star-studded eyes, shivering a little at the feeling of the thick hardness of Jack’s cock grinding against his.  Jack heaves, loving the smoky sunset glimmer of longing and lust in Gabriel’s gaze, how his chest rises and falls breathless, precisely and perfectly enmeshed in that skintight black kevlar, how it traces the cut curves and sweeping angles of _him_ with shadowy elegance.

Jack practically _rips_ his own athletic shirt up over his head, flicking his gaze back down to see Gabriel dissolve the long, jet-black overcoat into wisps of nothingness.  As Jack leans back over him, he trails fingertips across Gabriel’s chest and -

Gabriel groans faintly, as he _relents_ to Jack’s touch, letting the shadows that he’d wrapped himself in fade into traces of the smoke, laying himself bare for _him_ \- Jack slides himself into Gabriel’s space, his hands moving down Gabriel’s hips, again to the back of his thighs, pulling them tighter around his waist and -

Gabriel lifts his arms to urge Jack into his embrace, the steel-tipped claws and armored gauntlets vanishing, starting to “retract” the obsidian-sharded ends of his fingers back into normal human hands -

“ _Don’t._ ”

Gabriel _freezes_

As those intense, stormy blue eyes pin him down, a fire and a fury _burning_ hard and impatient in them, and that voice - drip drip dripping with a low, smoky desire - murmurs _furiously_ :

“ _Leave them._ ”

Gabriel thinks his senses _shatter_ -

As Jack leans in, kissing him slow and sweet and seductive as he growls against Gabriel’s lips:

“I waited _so patiently_ for you, _Reaper_ \- I want to be _covered_ in scratches for every day you were gone.”

Gabriel moans softly as Jack presses his chest against Gabriel’s, his skin a dusky warmth, an easy tension that moves both hastily and languidly, fluid and fire, and - without even thinking about it -

Gabriel’s smoke-silk-sharded fingertips are back on him, lightly piercing into the heat of Jack’s back, scratching down the swell of muscles and cut angles.  Jack shudders as he feels them, pushing both of them up along the bed more, his own fingers still gliding up up up Gabriel’s thighs.  Gabriel’s dark kevlar disappears behind them, revealing more and more of his gilded, sunset-light skin, flushed faintly ruby-red.  They kiss breathlessly for a second longer, before they part briefly and -

Gabriel flicks a devilish, wry smirk at Jack - the kind that sends a lightning bolt of joy and ecstasy straight to Jack’s groin - as Gabriel laughs that _wonderful_ , liquid obsidian laugh:

“I don’t know, Jack - usually heroes have to _earn_ their reward.  If you want your prize, you have to _work_ for it.”

Jack raises an eyebrow at him, before grinning his own roguish, crooked smile back as he teases:

“Don’t worry, Gabe - I’m gonna work you so hard you’ll never come back to me late ever again.”

At the lilting, teasing _ache_ in Jack’s words, sparks of fire flitter across Gabriel’s skin and a jolt of pleasure laces through his lower body - Jack rolls his hips, grinding his stiff cock, still covered in those damnable combat pants, against Gabriel’s bare, heavy dick, causing Gabriel to shudder and dig his fingertips into Jack’s shoulders.  Jack exhales, relishing in the pinpricks of precise and perfect pain across his back, before he rises slightly, moving his hands from the velvety warmth of Gabriel’s skin to his belt buckle.

Gabriel watches with a furious, lidded gaze as Jack slides his pants and tight boxer briefs down, biting his lip as Jack’s long, thick cock appears, dropping his left hand to lightly trace his obsidian-sharded fingertips along the length of it (Jack _shivers_ at his touch) -

Before Gabriel wraps his fingers around it, loving the heated firmness in his grasp, and he pumps it teasingly.

Jack gasps steeply, barely managing to get his pants off as the smooth warmth of Gabriel’s hand coyly works pleasure into his cock and groin, the edge of his impatience wearing thinner and thinner with each stroke.  When he drops back over Gabriel, he grinds his hips against Gabriel’s again, rubbing their cocks together -

Gabriel moans briefly, until Jack muffles the sound with another long, deep kiss, claiming Gabriel’s gasps and breaths of pleasure for himself, as Gabriel adjusts his hand, gripping his dick along with Jack’s and stroking them together -

“ _Mi rey, mi sol_ ,” Jack murmurs lovingly, reverentially against Gabriel’s lips, each word drip drip dripping with heat and want and impatience - the soldier runs his hands down his husband’s hips, hiking them even higher, Gabriel’s thighs squeezing him reflexively as Jack whispers to him with hasty languidness, “Let me work hard for you, Gabe - let me help you feel good -”

“So _impatient_ ,” Gabriel teases him, stroking harder with the word, and _god_ , it gets Jack to shudder in the palm of his hand, Jack’s whole face wincing with the pleasure and the roll of Gabriel’s voice.  But even with his teasing, Jack can tell Gabriel is eager and impatient too, as his wraith of a husband draws a bottle of lube out of the shadows.

“Don’t you know to slow down and _savor_ the moment?” Gabriel asks coyly, as Jack pulls the bottle from his hand.  But Jack just kisses him one last time, murmuring back in his own deep, rumbling tone:

“Oh, Gabe - I am going to take my sweet, _sweet_ time to savor you.”

Gabriel’s breath flutters in his chest as Jack smirks against his lips, before pulling away, dragging himself down Gabriel’s torso, kissing and nipping at the underside of Gabriel’s jaw, the column of his neck, his collarbone.  As Jack moves, Gabriel’s hands slip back to Jack’s shoulders, scratching at his skin as Jack kisses and sucks at one of Gabriel’s nipples, lavishing his chest with lust and attention.  Gabriel groans, the sound mixing with the sensations of his scratches, sending shivers across Jack’s skin before Jack resumes his downward motion, kissing and biting at the curves and angles of Gabriel’s abs, the jut of his hipbone and -

With an easy, languid pause, Jack stops, admiring the way Gabriel’s cock hangs stiff and heavy and thick for him, how it twitches a little under the intensity of Jack’s gaze, before he flicks his eyes back to Gabriel’s -

Admiring how Gabriel’s gilded-obsidian eyes seem to _glow_ with a twist of ruby-red sunset haze, smoky with desire and anticipation and -

Jack smirks, saying to him tauntingly, “You look so good when you’re impatient, Gabe.”

And Gabriel scowls, he gaze fierce with lust and frustration before he grins back, replying smugly, “I like being savored, Jack - _especially_ when you’re so eager to work for it.”

Jack hums a little at that, popping the cap on the lube bottle and pouring a generous amount onto his right fingers.  Gabriel shivers as he watches _him_ \- his husband, his partner, his soldier - work the gel over his index and middle fingers, and Gabriel shifts his hips a little higher, the edges of his impatience wearing thinner and thinner and -

Jack drops the bottle and leans in, flicking one last lavishing look at Gabriel’s face, before he shuts his eyes and -

With easy tension and hasty languidness -

Licks a long, _savoring_ stripe up Gabriel’s cock, as his fingers slowly yet firmly work into Gabriel’s tight, meltingly hot ring of muscles.

“ _Fuuuuuuuck, Jack_ -” Gabriel gasps, pleasure bursting through him as Jack swallows his cock down, the warm, tight feeling rushing down the length of his dick and up his spine like liquid lightning, raking his claws across Jack’s head - Jack _groans_ at the feeling of Gabriel’s sharp fingertips on his skin, the sound a low, raspy rumble around the silky, hot skin of his hardness, and Gabriel shudders at the feeling, his thighs squeezing at Jack’s shoulders.

As Jack sucks and licks, his fingers slide into Gabriel, easing him open, pressing in a little ways before they twist and tease, curl and flex.  Gabriel shakes under the roiling pressure of Jack working both his cock - hot and thick and full in Jack’s mouth - and his ass - hot and tight and full of Jack’s fingers - and -

“ _Yes, Jack_ \- that’s it, more -” Gabriel moans, shaking from it, rolling his hips up, pushing his cock a little deeper into Jack’s mouth (and Jack _growls_ again at the full, aching pressure of it) before he pushes his hips down a little, riding himself deeper onto Jack’s fingers.  Jack relishes in the taste of _him_ , sweetly bitter and bittersweet, leaking from the head of his cock, hot and thick and full in Jack’s mouth, and he _twists_ his fingers in a little harder, a little rougher, a little _further_ and -

“ _Holy_ -” Gabriel shouts, his eyes widening as Jack’s fingers rub and grind against his aching, impatient pressure point, the _throb_ of pleasure flooding through him, sparking nerves into stars and melting sunsets into perfection inside him - his whole body flinches, thighs clenching, toes curling, claws pulling at Jack’s hair and scratching at Jack's scalp.

“There, Jack, right there - _so good_ -” Gabriel urges him in that cutting, jagged smoke voice, words fraying at the edges, and Jack presses his fingers in deeper and deeper, working them against Gabriel’s firmer ache, in in in and out, then in in in again.  Gabriel practically _sings_ for him, his hips and legs writhing with the thrill, calling out hoarsely, “ _YES_ , Jack - more more more, harder -”

Jack shuts his eyes, concentrating on _him_ , on the feeling of slick, silky hardness in his mouth, the feeling of hot, tight shivers around his fingers, how Gabriel - his husband, his partner, his love - _melts_ at his touch, how _good_ , how _right_ Gabriel’s claws feel as they scratch and skitter across his head and -

Jack sucks _harder_ , twisting his fingers in _deeper_ and -

“ ** _Jack_** -” Gabriel shouts, _his_ name cracking as the pleasure overwhelms inside him, his sense of self coming undone as his ache, his longing, his frustration for Jack boils over - his whole body tenses with a fluid fire, shuddering as he comes white hot into Jack’s impatient, eager kisses, clenching and shuddering down hard around Jack’s fingers, groaning and sighing as Jack holds him steady throughout.

Jack drinks down his sweetly bitter bittersweetness, impatient for _him_ , for the taste of _him_ , for the feeling of _him_ , easily tense and yet hastily languid, a sense of _him, coming apart_ that Jack loves and relishes and desires more than anything else.  Jack slowly, _maddeningly_ pulls himself off of Gabriel’s cock, as Gabriel collapses back against the bedsheets.

Jack licks his lips, admiring the sight of _him_ \- his husband, his partner, his Gabriel - sprawled back, loose and open and relaxed, eyes unfocused and hazy with a sunset glow, chest heaving and panting.  With a smirk, Jack twists his fingers again and Gabriel’s whole body flinches with the sudden burst of overstimulated pleasure -

Just how _he_ likes it - precise and perfect in every way.

Gabriel flicks that ruby-red gaze, melted with lust and love, towards Jack, moaning in that low, sultry voice as Jack languidly and lazily finger-fucks him, not _quite_ as hasty and hard as a moment ago, but still tense and tight enough to get Gabriel to shudder and roll his hips.

And that’s because Gabriel _loves_ to be overworked and worked over by Jack’s sweetly bitter and bittersweet frustration - an easy tension drip drip dripping with hasty languidness that melts _them, apart_ down into a raw, furious love of _them, together_ -

Tinted in twilight

Steeped in shadows

Woven in sunsets worth more than anything.

Gabriel lets Jack tease at his pulsing, shuddering, aching desire, savoring the aftershocks of pleasure that Jack works into him, _savoring_ the dark, intense, _impatient_ glow of Jack’s nightfallen blue eyes -

Letting Jack grow more and more _frustrated_ by the second -

“Little more, Jack -” Gabriel taunts him, teases him, _feeling_ the frustration inside _him_ \- his husband, his partner, his love - grow stronger and fiercer with each, steadily impatient, indulgent twist of Jack’s fingers.  Gabriel’s voice cracks higher as a precisely _good_ , perfectly _sensual_ twist rockets a bolt of pleasure through him, moaning with a near-whimper to his words, “ _Ah_ \- so **_good_** , Jack, so _patient_ -”

“ _Gabriel_ -” Jack growls, a low, raspy rumble that - with another thrilling press of Jack’s fingers inside him - gets Gabriel to shudder and _melt_.  Gabriel gives him a long, sultry look, before he tilts that sunset gaze down -

To Jack’s dripping cock, eager and frustrated and _ready_.

“So impatient,” Gabriel chuckles, and the sound of that obsidian-sharded smoke voice sends a precise, perfect shiver through Jack’s cock and up his spine.  That gorgeous smirk does _not_ help either, as Gabriel grins coyly at him, adding lowly, “You’ll wait for me, right?  To come again?”

Jack would wait an eternity for Gabriel.

 _Always_ , is the thought that runs through Jack’s head in vivid, fierce whispers, but what he actually rasps out is, “I’ll show you _impatience_ , Reaper.”

Gabriel’s eyes _light up_ at the challenge and he smirks -

Before he crooks a long, smoky claw at Jack, beckoning him to come, to break his frustration open and melt down his impatience - raw and unending -

Into _them, together_.

“Come and earn your reward, _soldier_ ,” Gabriel taunts him in a sunset lilt, “Let me feel you work for it.”

Jack’s impatience _shatters_.

He pulls his fingers from Gabriel’s tight muscles, both hands shifting to spread Gabriel’s legs wider, lining up his frustrated, impatient cock with Gabriel’s slicked entrance and then -

Jack sinks into _him_ \- his easily tense, _miserably wonderful_ , hot, melting tightness -

Gabriel shudders and groans hoarsely as he’s filled - hot and thick and full - with _him_ \- his long, heavy hardness, silky smooth and yet stiff and solid, a pressure that makes them - together - feel

Good again

Whole again

Complete again.

“ _Yes, Jack_ -” Gabriel moans, as Jack drops to him, chest to chest, Jack’s breaths ragged and short, heavy with the frustration of holding himself back.  Gabriel wraps his arms around Jack’s shoulders, digging his claws into Jack’s skin, murmuring soft, smoky nothings in Jack’s ear, “So _good_ , you feel _so good_ when you’re impatient for me -”

“Gabe,” Jack growls back, his own fingertips digging into Gabriel’s hips, pushing him down onto his cock just a little and -

Gabriel moves back a bit, raking that melting sunset gaze over Jack’s face, before he leans closer and presses an easy, languid, smug smirk to Jack’s lips, saying with a slow haste:

“ _Work me hard,_ _soldier_.”

And _that_ -

That _breaks_ Jack’s patience.

Jack thrusts _hard_ , fierce, furious, grinding his cock into Gabriel’s slicked, tight heat with impatient urgency, a low, raspy rumble catching in his throat as the pleasure of _him_ \- his husband, his partner, his frustration - burns through Jack like a liquid fire, molten with sunset light and drawn shadows.  Jack feels Gabriel tense and shudder, clenching down around him as the pressure of Jack’s cock against his aching desire overwhelms and overstimulates him, flooding _him_ with more gasping, shaking ecstasy, his claws grazing across Jack’s back in a mad scramble to anchor himself to Jack.

“ _Holy **hell** , Jack_ -” Gabriel moans eagerly against Jack’s lips, as Jack rocks in in in again, pushing deeper and deeper still, full and fulfilling, hot and heavy, Jack’s thick, hard dick thrusting wave after wave of dense pleasure through him - the fullness of it makes Gabriel see stars, sends snaps and shivers of ecstasy up his spine, makes him writhe and shake with Jack’s rough, impatient pace.

Jack holds Gabriel’s hips in place, fucking into him fast and furious, his mind unraveling with each thrust and each shuddering squeeze of Gabriel’s warmth, with each drag of Gabriel’s claws and each weak rattle of Gabriel’s breath - the throb and the roll of the pleasure burn the frustration out of his mind, replacing it with sensations of _him_ \- his husband, his partner, his love, his Gabriel - clenching tensely tight and easily hot around him.

“ _Fuck, Gabe_ -” Jack groans, rocking his hips in in in, pushing his cock deeper and deeper before he pulls back a little, just to push in in in again.  Everything Gabriel was, is, will be makes him _melt_ , burns him and boils him and smokes him down into blissful nothingness, impatience and love, frustration and togetherness, and Jack takes a long moment to thrust into Gabriel’s precise and perfect pleasure unthinkingly, easily tense and languidly hasty, before -

Jack refocuses himself, shifting back more to his knees, giving himself a better angle to rise over Gabriel, bracing himself on his elbows so that he can watch all of Gabriel’s expressions - shifting like shadows in the dying sunset bronze light.  He steadies his pace to give long, slow, fierce thrusts of his cock against Gabriel’s overpleasured pressure point, _savoring_ how each torque of his hips and each push of his stiff, aching cock gets a new, blossoming look of open ecstasy on Gabriel’s face, his eyes glowing a bright, bold ruby-red with each roll -

How each thrust gets Gabriel to dig his claws in a little harder, the obsidian-sharded tips scratching precise and perfect pleasure-pain across Jack’s back, which only gets him to thrust harder and stronger, steady and slow.

Gabriel moans openly, as Jack slows his pace to a _miserably wonderful_ , _incredibly seductive_ roll of hard, focused thrusts, the intense, bittersweet fury in Jack’s gaze making him feel so _wanted_ , so _savored_ , concentrating solely on working Gabriel into blissful nothingness, that thick cock pumping him full and fulfilling, fucking lightning bolts of overwhelming rippling sensation through Gabriel’s body.  Gabriel barely manages to focus enough through the haze of pleasure and lust to pull his right hand back, scratching lazy but fierce lines across Jack’s shoulders (which gets Jack to break his intense stare to wince in bliss), dragging his fingertips across Jack’s scalp to caress his face -

Before Gabriel presses the tip of his clawed thumb to the scar on Jack’s lips.

Jack’s chest hitches as Gabriel lightly, teasingly applies pressure - just enough to send a soft tingle across his lips and a _furious_ shiver of ecstasy through Jack’s whole body - and then -

Jack relents, parting his lips just enough to let Gabriel slip his thumb - covered in dark, thick, obsidian shadows - into his mouth.

Jack sucks eagerly, licking at the pointed tip of Gabriel’s thumb, savoring the oddly dense-yet-smoky sensation of it in his mouth, groaning wantonly as Gabriel drags the edge of it against his tongue and -

Jack gives a broken, hasty, _needy_ roll of his hips, thrusting his cock in harder and faster than the deliberately maddening pace he’d set, causing Gabriel to give a _wonderful_ , _gorgeous_ full-body shudder and a _moan_ \- drip drip dripping with smoky lust - as the intensity of the thick, stiff pressure overwhelms and overstimulates and overpleasures him.

“God _damn_ , Jack,” Gabriel groans, clenching down around that wonderfully hard cock inside him as it thrusts overwhelming pressure against his ache, melting stars and bronzing sunsets in the haze of his mind.  His legs squeeze tighter around Jack’s hips and lower back, his left hand scratching fiercely across Jack’s shoulders, his right hand caressing Jack’s cheek -

His right thumb being nipped by Jack’s teeth, Jack’s gaze a lust-filled, lavishing look upon Gabriel’s.

Gabriel watches Jack lick a long stripe up his thumb, before he (reluctantly) pulls it from Jack’s mouth, winding his fingers through Jack’s hair and across the back of his head again before -

Gabriel pulls Jack in, bringing them back together again, chest to chest, breath to breath and -

Jack sinks into the sunset kiss, savoring the heat of Gabriel’s lips, the way they steal his gasping groans, the length long and smouldering like a dying fire blazing back into life.  Jack rolls his hips, grinding and rubbing his cock deeper and deeper still, pounding wave after wave against Gabriel’s aching prostate, and he can _feel_ Gabriel’s tight, denser muscles clenching and squeezing more sporadically, hastily and needily, enveloping his own leaking dick in that _wonderful, incredible_ throbbing heat -

“Don’t stop,” Gabriel rumbles against his lips, his normally smoky-gold eyes _burning_ into a bright, fierce ruby-red, and Jack shivers with a pleasurepained frisson at the look of deep, powerful love and desire in them, in _him_ -

His Gabriel -

As Gabriel winds his right hand to Jack’s shoulders, slipping his left hand down to squeeze and grip at Jack’s ass, pushing him in in in -

“ _Gabriel, holy shit_ -” Jack gasps and winces as _his_ pleasure begins to overwhelm his mind - _he_ ’s close, _he’s_ so close -

And Jack will do _anything_ to make Gabriel come again -

Even if it means melting his own impatience down into endless, eternal frustration.

So Jack braces himself on the edges of his senses, gritting down hard as he rides in in into Gabriel stronger, faster, _fiercer_ \- Gabriel almost _sobs_ as Jack fucks rough, furious pleasure into him, that thick, heavy cock making him _melt_ into burning, roiling heat, thundershocks and blazing sunsets, hazy and endless and eternal, the light dying as blissful nothingness comes to him and -

Claws sink into Jack’s skin, driving needles of precise, perfect, pleasurepain across his body and -

Jack gives one, two, three more _hard_ , _wonderfully overwhelming_ thrusts into Gabriel -

Slipping his right hand between their bodies to stroke one, two, three around Gabriel’s dripping cock -

Jack’s dark, intensely blue eyes watching for _his_ beautiful, open expression -

Jack savoring how Gabriel’s whole body tenses easily, with a languid haste that _melts_ -

As the pleasure floods and burns through Gabriel, making him unravel -

And he comes undone as he comes again.

“ _So good, Jack_ ,” Gabriel practically shouts, as Jack’s last, focused thrust sends him over the edge, the darkness of blissful nothingness of _them, together_ causing him to shudder and shake, clenching down around _him_ \- his husband, his partner, his love - as the dying sunset melts and burns and breaks in his mind.  And there’s a long, drawn-shadow kiss, tinted in twilight, steeped in forever, being pressed against his lips -

Gabriel savors _him_ \- his endless patience, his easy relaxation, his eternal love -

As both relish in the pleasure of _them, together_ -

Good again

Whole again

Complete again.

Against Jack’s lips, Gabriel smirks lazily, hazily, chuckling in that smoky voice, “Good _work_ , soldier - you’ve been _so patient_ -”

“ _Gabe_ ,” Jack groans back, as Gabriel rubs his right hand across his left cheek again.  Those bright, bold ruby-red eyes hold him through it, as that obsidian-dripping voice murmurs in the most _sultry, silky_ whisper:

“Come for me, Jack.”

And _that_ -

That _destroys_ Jack.

His hands are immediately at Gabriel’s hips, his fingers digging into those cut curves, pushing Gabriel down down down onto him as he thrusts his twitching, aching cock up up up and in in in - sharp, fierce fucks that pulse Gabriel’s slick, velvety, tight heat down his dick and into his groin and across his body, as Gabriel himself clenches and tightens up under the _burst_ of overstimulated pleasure that rocks through him, Gabriel _shouting_ hoarsely in a voice that frays like cracking smoke shards:

“ ** _Yes_** _, Jack_ \- that’s it, that’s it - _so **good** , so **good** _ \- _come for me, soldier - let me **feel** you_ -”

Jack gasps against Gabriel’s roguish, delighted, feverish grin, Jack’s whole body tensing and straining as _his_ edge claims his senses, clenching and squeezing as the white hot pleasure burns through Jack, melting his impatience, his frustration, his endless love into a moment of blissful togetherness and -

Gabriel breathes with him, those wonderful claws holding him through it, those bright, sunset ruby-red eyes admiring him sweetly and seductively, burning smoke and embers -

As Jack shudders, thrusting one, two, coming hot and heavy inside him (which gets Gabriel to shiver with pleasure) before he finally - _finally_ \- releases the impatient tension in his body to collapse against Gabriel’s chest.

There is a moment of nothing but

Them, together

Feeling

Good

Whole

Complete again

As dark, smoke-silked, obsidian-sharded claws soothingly stroke through whitegold hair

And a wry, twisted sunset smirk presses gently against a rough, scruff-covered cheek.

Gabriel kisses him _so sweetly_ , causing Jack to mumble, face down in the pillow next to Gabriel’s left cheek:

“...I _hate_ waiting for you.”

Gabriel laughs - as bright as the eventual sunrise - saying with such _love_ and _joy_ :

“But as long as you wait, I’ll always come back.”

\---------

For the first time in years - maybe decades - “Reaper” doesn’t have nightmares.

“Nightmares” might not be the right word for them: he doesn’t really sleep, not truly (although at this point, he barely remembers what “sleep” actually feels like) - it’s more like he drifts in and out, in and out, on a soft ocean tide made of liquid smoke and shadows, seeing faint images in a starless void, tinted in twilight and dying sunsets, flickers of blue lifes and red deaths glittering in and out, in and out.

He’s never certain if these are...visions...or memories...or simply ideas of the shadow in his second pulse.  Sometimes they are horrifying - visages of deaths and wastelands, people screaming and dying.  Sometimes they are quite serene - images of nothingness, drifting forever, covered in smoke - but lonely, so lonely.

Sometimes they are heartbreaking.

Scenes of _him_ , broken and cracked and bloody, fear and horror in his eyes, silver-tipped, obsidian-sharded claws wrapped around _his_ throat, as _he_ struggles to breathe, the light fading from his seadeep blue eyes -

Like the velvet night giving way to a shattered dawn.

But for the first time

He does not see any of those.

He’s still restless, still drifting - in and out, in and out - but this time, he’s...nestled in something.  Balled up.  Covered in something.  Wedged up against soft, warm flesh that’s...shifting...in and out, in and out and oh -

Breathing.

He’s next to giants?  They are big, very big - one with skin deep and rich like the earth, flaked with gold, the other with skin pale and peach, like the beginning of a sunrise.  The giants are entwined together, skin to skin, breathing in and out, in and out and oh -

He knows them.

One is him -

And the other is _him_.

 _Jack_.

He flops himself around, struggling to reorient himself, plopping himself over.  He is not used to this.  Normally he just lets images come to him, but _he’s_ here - _him_.   _Jack_.  

There’s no need to wait anymore.

So he is okay with struggling...plopping and pushing and flopping himself along, climbing up _his_ side, over the other arm (his arm), moving steadily towards _him_ , where his breath flows in and out, in and out - the breath of life, of love, of frustration, of trying to be good again and -

Oh.

The giants shift, still breathing in and out, in and out easily, languidly, but they move - he moves first, sliding to the right, propping himself on his right side, and then _he, him, Jack_ moves second, following him instinctively, curling up around him but -

That’s bad news for little Reap.

He falls, tumbling off of _him, his side, Jack’s side_ , landing _plop_ in a mess of soft cotton, still warm with body heat where _he, him, Jack_ had been sleeping and -

All well.

He has to try again.

Because as long as _he, him, Jack_ is there -

He will keep trying to come back.

\---------

There is

_something_

on

his face.

 _Jack wakes the hell up_ , flailing about as something like a giant ball of puffy, fluffed up cotton is pressing warm and soft against his mouth and nose and _fuck, god, what’s happening, where is Gabriel, are they being attacked_ -

He sputters and gasps, sitting up in the half-light, half-darkness of the early pre-dawn, grabbing at the cotton ball fluff thing, prepared to fight off any potential kidnappers, ripping it from his face, his eyes wildly searching for -

“ _Jack!_ ”

Jack stops.

The noise is a high-pitched, squeaky chirp that almost - _almost_ \- sounds like his name -

“ _Jack!_ ”

The ball of fluff in his left hand seems to shake a little.

Eyes still bleary with sleep, Jack peers into the shadowy half-light, his mind not fully processing that, yes, okay, the room is empty - Gabriel’s still sleeping form is curled up next to him in bed, still breathing deeply, in and out, in and out, arms tucked up under a pillow and like, half the bed sheets, the jerk.  There are thin, barely-there strips of light starting to glow through the half-cracked slat blinds, faintly blue tinted purple tinted pink tinted peach tinted rose gold, a soft sigh of the slow sunrise somewhere over the city -

“ _Jack!  Jack, die!_ ”

Okay.

He’s _definitely_ hearing his name from -

Jack finally glances at the puffball...cotton beanie baby thing...in his hand and -

It’s a...baby bird?

Jack blinks once.  Twice.  Rubs his eyes with his right hand, pulling the tiny...crowlet (?) owlet (?) chick to him, muttering, “The hell?”  Had he left a window open or something -

Jack stops.

His eyes grow wide.

A small, indignant, teardrop-shaped, bone-white face stares back at him -

With glowing, ruby-red eyes.

Jack knows this face.

He ogles the tiny...smoky...puffball thing, which blinks back at him with an unamused, deadpanned expression, before it peeps, “ _Die!_ ” with obvious, easy frustration.  And then -

Jack whips around towards Gabriel, his eyes frantically searching for the Reaper mask on the floor by the foot of the bed -

...It’s not there.

Jack scowls, his gaze flicking back to Gabriel and -

When had he picked up the mask?

The Reaper mask is swinging with an easy tension from one of Gabriel’s right claws, hanging loosely off the side of the bed, and for a brief second, Jack thinks -

Jack thinks he sees the eyes of the mask _glow_ , flickering ruby-red but -

He blinks again and it’s gone.

... _Gabriel... **can** make that thing appear and disappear on a whim_ , Jack assures himself, _Maybe he materialized it in his sleep?_  But Jack slowly... _slowly_ glances back at the…

The smoke (?) bird (?) puffball (?) in his hand is still staring at him like he’s a moron.

“ _...Jack,_ ” it peeps and _god damn_ , it sounds _exactly_ like a high-pitched, squeaky version of Gabriel when he takes That Tone Of Voice Where Jack Has Done Something Kinda Dumb Again.  Jack inhales steeply, trying to calm himself down, exhaling out, “...Soooooo...I take it you’re _not_ normally... _a thing_.”

“ _...Die_ ,” it chirps with a passingly agreeable tone, and it almost -

It almost seems to _shrug_ at him.

Jack gives the puffball his own unamused, disbelieving scowl, muttering, “Yeah, okay, you’re definitely _him_ , or a part of him...or something.  But you’ve got that shit down pat, uh...thing that you are, you.”

“ _Die_ ,” it hum-squeaks.  Jack blinks at it a few times, before glancing back to Gabriel’s sleeping form.  He looks back at the...tiny...Reaper (?) puffball, muttering lowly, “I guess I should wake him up -”

_The Reaper puffball shakes its head._

Jack thinks his mind _breaks_ a little.

“...So…” he says stiffly, thoughts reeling, “...You understand me?”

“ _...Jack_ ,” the tiny Reaper answers back, again, in that same _stupid, frustrating, ridiculous, loving tone_ and -

“Okay...okay, cool -” Jack breathes slowly, trying to comprehend how his world has kinda turned upside all over again.  He goes back to staring at it again, asking calmly, “Do you, uh...Are you like him?  Like...that...shadowy stuff and smoke and - god _damn_.”

He’s tried asking Gabriel to explain the “Reaper” stuff in the past, but Gabriel had launched into a _surprisingly in-depth technical explanation of nanites and nanomachines and genetic mutations and subatomic particles and quantum states of existence_ until Jack had basically begged him stop, saying, “Please, Gabe, for all that is holy, just _tell me what you do in layman’s terms_.”

And Gabriel had given him that unamused, deadpan expression, before quirking an eyebrow and chuckling wryly, _“I do kickass bad guy shit, Jack.”_

Jack just stares at the little Reaper puff, before asking hesitantly, “Uh...do you...do… ‘kickass bad guy shit’ like him?”

The little Reaper stares back, blinking once, twice before -

It tucks its tiny wings in and bows its skull-marked head, humming lowly, “ _Diiiiiiiieeeeeee_ -”

And then it _disappears_.

 _OH SHIT, WHERE’D IT GO, DID I SCARE IT, OH MY GOD,_ Jack screams in his own head, looking across the bed and floor frantically before -

Something warm and fluffy and soft _plops_ onto his head.

Jack comes to a complete stop, blinking to himself as he _feels_ the tiny Reaper ball wiggle itself around in his hair, settling itself in like it’s found prime real estate, hearing it almost _purr_ in contentment, whistling softly, contentedly, _lovingly_ , “... _Jack…_ ”

“...Is that why you were on my face?” Jack asks it dryly.  The li’l Reaper peeps back quietly, “ _Die_!”

“God, what is with you and him and your interest in my hair?” Jack mutters, exhaling slowly.  He settles back against the pillows, huffing gruffly, “Him pulling on it so much has only made me lose it faster.  And now you’re here.  Are you going to nest in it, or something?”

“ _...Die_ ,” the li’l Reaper sighs contentedly.  Jack folds his arms, tapping a finger, watching how the slow, steady sunrise drips more vibrant lines of color into the room: deep purples cast along the western edge, sinking upwards into a gentle, tender magenta, which blends into more vibrant, radiant bronze, turning into the quietest, gilded glow.  The stripes of lighting are, perhaps, one of the sweetest, serenest things he’s ever seen.

And there, with the tiny Reaplet on his head and _him_ -

His husband, his partner, his love, his life -

His Gabriel -

At his side

Jack knows he won’t be able to fall back asleep.

He smiles faintly, like the starlight beginning to set on the western edge of the sky, the twilight shifting to dawn.

He doesn’t want to.

This morning is worth more than anything else.

 _They_ are worth more than anything else.

So Jack adjusts slightly, leaning over to the table that’s still very close to the bed, fingers dragging the datapad to him, careful not to disturb the li’l Reaplet on his head (which is breathing, very faintly, in and out, in and out, with a hum that sounds like “ _Die...diiiiieee...diiiieeee…_ ”).  As he’s about to settle back against the pillows, Jack sees -

A faint wisp of soft shadows and smoke, velvety and silky, breathing across the room like a disappearing sunset haze - in and out, in and out.

There is no fear nor horror in him at the sight of it.

Sure, he has _no idea_ what it does or how it works -

But as long as it comes back to him -

Jack will wait for it patiently.

Jack gives the sweetest, most gilded-sunrise smile to the soft mist, before he looks over at _him_ -

Gabriel -

And feels such a _rush_ of unending love and affection - sweetly bitter and bittersweet, yes, but also

Good.

Whole.

Complete

Again.

Jack gently, tenderly - with all the love in his heart - brushes his fingers through Gabriel’s short, buzzed hair, scratching so softly that Gabriel -

(In his shifting not-sleep, Gabriel feels a sweet, slow warmth - calloused fingers that touch him like he’s worth more than anything in the world - stroke through his short hair and he sighs, easing into the way _he_ \- _his husband, his partner, his love, his life_ \- _his Jack_ is touching him -)

Gabriel sighs with a faint, smoky contentment.

As long as they come back to this room together -

They can try to be good again, whole again, complete again.

As long as they come back to _them, again_ -

They can take all the time in the world.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Vape's upload of her beautiful RBB picture [ here!](http://vapewraith.tumblr.com/post/167713939381/my-rbb-piece-featuring-old-men-in-love-glowing)
> 
> And PLEASE, go shower Vapewraith with love at:
> 
> Tumblr: [Vapewraith](http://vapewraith.tumblr.com)  
> Twitter: [Vapewraith](https://twitter.com/Vapewraith)
> 
> And you can find more of my stuff here on AO3, or at:
> 
> Tumblr: [Segadores-y-Soldados](segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com)  
> Twitter: [SegadorYSoldado](https://twitter.com/SegadorYSoldado)


End file.
